


Moons-struck

by Vergiliaux



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, Backstory, Bitterness, Canon Divergence - Final Fantasy XIV, Denial of Feelings, Drabble Collection, Elezen Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), End of the World, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Final Fantasy XIV - Freeform, Ironic Misanthropy, M/M, Male Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Mental Health Issues, Mild Language, Shadowbringers Spoilers, Slow Burn, Touch-Starved Warrior of Light, Touch-Starved Zenos yae Galvus, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Zenos yae Galvus - Freeform, suicidal behavior
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:21:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29807628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vergiliaux/pseuds/Vergiliaux
Summary: After learning of the 'true' grand scheme of things, the Warrior of Light loses all sense of self and purpose until he finally sees the world similarly to a foe, or perhaps friend, from a previous encounter. And that foe-turned-friend awaits him when the time is just right.
Relationships: Zenos yae Galvus/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Moons-struck

**Author's Note:**

> A collection of ZenoHika drabbles featuring my WoL, Vergiliaux, that I might do on a whim. Will contain spoilers.
> 
> More about my Warrior of Light: vergiliaux.carrd.co/#vergiliaux-renata

Out from the gloom of crystalline trenches stood a fair-featured Elezen adjusting his round, unflattering spectacles. The warm and welcoming midday light on the Source went seemingly unnoticed. As a light breeze blew his light blond locks away from his face, the Elezen looked up only to coldly analyze a familiar, albeit blurred silhouette towering above the heart of Silvertear--an old acquaintance, if that appropriately describes their relationship, still entwined with the remains of the Agrius. 'Twas a day just like any other.

With trusty spectacles back on and finally free from disjointment and scuffmarks, the young man took his humble cane into hand and trailed off toward Revenant’s Toll, straight-faced and in anticipation for whatever troubles await him yet again. Though, he's somewhat used to it, at least, since his adventures cultivated much-desired temperance and toughness in the face of the sheer and relentless stupidity of his fellows now both mortal and immortal, something which once unnerved him into social withdrawal during his more innocent days.

A partially-illuminated moon hung at a distance from the sun in Mor Dhona’s clear skies. Her faithful hound departed from her side five years ago. But in the eyes of this particular Warrior of Light, she seemed left behind with unfulfillment eating at her soul, a feeling familiar with him, yearning for her sun to illuminate her as the two bodies remain figuratively apart beneath the same sky. 

The possible void within her brought the Elezen’s free hand to his chest to feel the one growing within him. The few memories of his late father whose life seemed expendable to the Ul'dahn Syndicate's internal squabbling, or the years of an unhealthy relationship with his talented mother that soon revealed itself as misunderstandings, both painful life experiences he had hoped to overcome five years ago with new memories. But the words of a late Ascian gnawed at his idea of himself: Vergiliaux Renata is nothing but a fragment of somebody else's soul, and his identity is a fleeting thought that will one day erode with time.

His attention on the path ahead waned. How many souls before him travelled along this very path, aware that the very dust on the road, similarly to the minds of people, will forget their footprints? Nobody will care one day.

Following those depressing thoughts emerged one of Vergiliaux's past selves. He recalled being 27 years old, quite stupid, and doing naught else but work in his great aunt’s library and binged on the history of cultures all around Hydaelyn. Memories of those days lie on the verge of crumbling to dust, but he longs for those quiet hours of enriching himself in mythology like a little kid. The material sun-marked crystal in his possession overtook the years of kinship he had with Menphina.

He took a deep breath and tried to focus on Mor Dhona’s present sights to bar his mind from making this revelation any more burdensome.


End file.
